


As If You Were Salt-Rose

by ribbonelle



Series: Long and Mad [3]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drinking, M/M, Pre-Delphi, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:36:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6324136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonelle/pseuds/ribbonelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The surgery was a success.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As If You Were Salt-Rose

**Author's Note:**

> someone asked for 'Ratchet/Pharma nsfw with Ratchet being the dominant one/doing the spiking + deciding to go steady?'
> 
> they’re working together at the deltaran medical facility here! the medic talk doesnt make sense and hah this may be a little ooc. (cadmium’s finest made me think of cadbury and policemen i just went with it) i wrote this 8 months ago but im putting every pharma/ratchet thing in a series here soo. tadah
> 
> title from pablo neruda; which is turning to be my default for these two

Pharma sliced the frayed ends of the fine wires with the small laser from his fingertip slowly, carefully, and then retracted his hand from the patient’s chest cavity.

There was a moment of pause as they waited for the circuitry to relink, and they both leaned closer over the mech in anticipation. A few more seconds and a dim, yellow light flowed through the wiring, and the monitor inside the operating room resumed its beeping.

The tension in the room lifted, both medics sighing in relief. Pharma looked up to find Ratchet beaming at him, pride apparent on the mech’s faceplates. Ratchet seemed so happy that Pharma laughed aloud, immediately cheered by his success, and the sheer adoration coming from his colleague. His spark felt light and swollen, and he was aware of how widely he was grinning but Pharma didn’t care, he had achieved something great, today.

The surgery was a success.

 //

He moved like he didn’t have a care in the world, Ratchet noted, with much more grace than he usually did. Pharma looked radiant, he was full of joy and it was doing things to Ratchet’s processor. All good, good things, things like dipping Pharma right in the middle of the sidewalk and kissing him senseless.

Pharma had carried out a surgery flawlessly today, a procedure so complicated that even Ratchet wasn’t sure if he could pull it off well enough. But it had been Pharma’s patient, and Pharma was confident, and it certainly paid off. Ratchet appreciated the fact that he had assisted Pharma during the surgery; he _loved_ watching medics work as it pertained specifically to his own specialty, and it was even better when their work was perfect. The fact that it was Pharma who had awed him this time was just icing on the oil cake.

He couldn’t stop looking at the mech.

And Pharma was probably aware of it, considering how he kept flicking his wings and shooting Ratchet these coy, fleeting glances.

“We should celebrate,” Ratchet suggested soon enough, as they were leaving the facility, “You achieved something amazing today.”

Pharma laughed, “You think? I’ve got a box of Cadmium’s Finest. Perfect for a celebration, isn’t it?”

He wasn’t disagreeing, but Ratchet did scoff a little, “Your success, your booze? It should be on me. Though I can’t deny that Cadmium’s would be perfect for the occasion.”

“I don’t mind sparing a few bottles for today,” Pharma’s tone was light, “It’d be reward enough to drink with you, Ratchet.” Praises slipped from Pharma’s lip components easily, a sure sign that he was in a _very_ good mood, “What do you say? My place?”

Ratchet flared his field a little just so that his approval and excitement wasn’t lost on Pharma, and he already knew what was going to happen at the end of the night, by now. There was no question about it.

“If you insist, Pharma.”

//

Cadmium’s Finest felt like silk on the glossa, and it didn’t sting the receptors like other unrefined high grade. It left a sort of tingling but nothing invasive, and it went down the intake like a caress.

The taste remained even after a few sips, and Ratchet discovered that if Pharma drank enough, Ratchet would be able to taste the nuances of the high grade on his lips. It made Pharma taste delectable. Not that the mechanism wasn’t already being especially delicious at the moment, perched on Ratchet’s thigh like he would fly away at any given chance. His arms around Ratchet’s neck weren’t really necessary, but Ratchet appreciated how Pharma’s fingertips pressed against the plating of his helm nevertheless, and he adored the way Pharma kept himself close by the contact, pressing his cheek against Ratchet’s jaw.

Pharma was all open body language, submissive. This didn’t happen often. Ratchet was very eager.

“You should…do something,” the flier murmured, caught up in his own nuzzling, “Something good.”

Ratchet mouthed at the side of Pharma’s lip components, feeling pleasantly buzzed with the high grade, and with the increasing charge in his lines, “Oh? Like reward you for being spectacular today?”

“Yesss,” he felt dentae graze his jaw, and Pharma was honestly undulating on his lap, “I’ve done well.”

“You sure have, Pharma.” Ratchet shifted to he could use both hands to touch his colleague, one rubbing at a wing tip, while the other moved lower, reaching for his pelvic plating, “You were amazing. I can open you up here and now, on my lap. Take you sweet and slow. Would you like that?”

It was amazing what Pharma reacted to when he was in the right mood. He accepted most of everything in this state of mind, and he especially loved Ratchet’s compliments. And Ratchet himself was feeling quite generous at the moment. Pharma’s little gasp was a very good sign, and his wings flicked up in what Ratchet had easily interpreted as a plea for ‘more’.

“You’re breath taking,” Ratchet purred, teasing his digits along Pharma’s seams, coaxing him to open his panel, “Easily the most gorgeous mech I’ve seen. Such a brilliant processor, too, you’re just the whole deal, kid.”

Pharma laughed like he was embarrassed, pushed at Ratchet’s shoulder the same way, but he flared his field, preening, “Shut up, you’re definitely exaggerating.”

Their fields mingled and rolled off each other playfully as Ratchet leaned even more, “Meant every word. I’m allowed to be really cheesy now and then, aren’t I?”

“Yes, you old sap,” Pharma scoffed without venom. He canted his hips and retracted his valve cover anyway, the heat emanated by the exposure heating up Ratchet’s thigh plating, “I want you.”

Ratchet rubbed the tips of his digits along the soft mesh, parting the valve lips only a little, “Want me here? Up inside?”

Pharma scoffed loudly, but his tightened grip on Ratchet was telling, “Well, yes. Where the hell else would I want you to…be. Mm, Ratchet,” he pushed his hips down to take more of the finger inside, but Ratchet had a hand on his hip and made him stay where he was, “Come on. Please?”

Oh but Pharma was lovely when he asked nicely.

He was lovely in general. Back arched like this, wingtips shivering in pleasure of getting what he wanted; a finger in the valve, as physically requested; Pharma was quite a sight. He was beautiful and smart and witty, and anyone would be lucky to gain his attention. Pharma was one of a kind. Ratchet belatedly realized that his thoughts were akin to a love-struck youngling.

Perhaps that was what he was. Not quite young, but love-struck.

Pharma had leaned in to shudder against Ratchet’s frame, tilting his head to mouth at Ratchet’s chevron as he was fingered almost persistently. He moaned in approval when Ratchet’s panel slid open with a click, and then in loss when Ratchet pulled out the fingers inside him.

Ratchet guided Pharma so the head of his spike eased in between Pharma’s valve lips, pushing his hips up once so it parted them with a slick slide. He was feeling heady with desire, and new found appreciation. He had always appreciated Pharma, but he had never _considered_ , before.

Pharma sank onto his spike slowly, heavy, and vented something that sounded like admiration into his shoulder. Ratchet wrapped his arms around the flier tighter, holding Pharma entirely.

“Can I stay for the night?” he chanced, through the haze of Pharma’s walls hot and rippling around his spike. Pharma never allowed it, not before, just as he never slept over at Ratchet’s.

It probably wasn’t fair considering their situation, but Pharma lifted his head to moan a ‘yes’ and pulled Ratchet into a kiss, and Ratchet’s spark soared.


End file.
